


Oaths of Allengence

by morange



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, White Collar
Genre: Conspiracy, F/M, Families of Choice, Gen, Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-09-05
Updated: 2010-09-05
Packaged: 2017-10-31 02:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/338754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morange/pseuds/morange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Family doesn't always mean home or loyalty. It doesn't even mean love or honesty. When the Watcher's Council is destroyed Rupert Giles brings a whole load of problems to Neal's doorstep, though some may just prove to him the real meaning of the word.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Impressions

The first Peter knew of the situation (though he didn't know what it was until much later) was a TV in the lounge that he heard as he was getting ready to pick up Neal for work. The news of an explosion of a historical society in London overnight. The death toll was in the double digits and the building and all its contents had been levelled.

"How sad. All that history and art, gone forever" El said as she typed from the table.

Peter snorted. "Most likely not forever. Some enterprising scumbag will say he found something which was lost. The usual scams after something like this. They'll get what's coming to them. "He said with a smile. "We catch the crooks."

El grinned and kissed him on the cheek. "Well worry about your own crook. And tell him I said hi!" her shout followed him out the door.

*~*

"Who ever you better have a good reason for calling at..." Moz trailed off as he tried to decipher the numbers on his clock. "4am."

"My my old friend, no need to forget your manners."

The soft voice instantly woke Moz the rest of the way.

"Ru? What are you doing calling, aren't you in London?"

"Yes, in fact I am currently sitting in my hotel watching news footage of the wreckage of the Watcher's Council headquarters."

There was silence on the line as Mozzie absorbed the information. "And what does that have to do with me? I haven't had anything to do with the Council for longer than you, I didn't blow them up if that's what you're thinking."

He heard a chuckle from the other end. "No, you would never be so crass as to blow them up. You were always a more, civilised criminal. But there are two things I need from you, hence the call."

Mozzie was gradually moving about his storage unit, having decided for once not to sack out on Neal's couch and now greatly pleased with the decision.

"Name them." he said simply.

"Paper's for myself and a few girls to get back into the states, I don't wont who ever did this knowing some of the girls made it out."

"And two?" Mozzie prompted.

"Two is going to be much more difficult."

Mozzie was intrigued despite himself. Lately the only interesting thing that he was involved in was Neal's hunt for Kate. And even that had stalled after the call in grand central. His musings were broken.

"You are still in contact with young Neal are you not?"

Mozzie was worried for his young friend. "Oh no, no, no. what do you want with him?"

"Just tell him the truth." Rupert replied.

"And then what. Rip his life to shreds? You know he only just got out. He's working for the FBI, he can't help anything!"

"Yes he can, he was the son of a Watcher, and as you know well, it's not something you just walk away from."

Mozzie sighed. "I'll talk to him. But it's up to him if he takes his fathers place."

The conversation turned to the more mundane travel arrangements Moz would need to make at that as Rupert took Mozzie at his word. Moz began to formulate plans on just how to convince Neal, it was going to be a long day.

*~*

The first Neal knew about it wasn't until later in the day. He didn't generally watch the news (thought they were as big cons as some of the ones he'd played) and it wasn't huge news around the office. So it was the appearance of Mozzie inside the White Collar Crimes Unit that was his first hint.

He stood up from behind the desk Peter had placed him at to look through cold cases, hoping that he might find something with his own 'alleged' experience.

"Moz?" he joked questioningly, "with not even a fake nose? You are getting bolder."

"You haven't heard then have you?" Moz asked. Not even paying attention to the rest of the room or to Neal's puzzled look he pulled two shot glasses and a small hipflask from in his jacket.

Peter appeared on the floor, attracted by Mozzie. "Hey, no alcohol in the building Haversham. I understand you don't like the rules but it's a bit obvious don't you think?"

He tried to grab the flask from Mozzie but he moved his hand. "Trust me, he'll need it in a minute." pouring the amber liquid into the glasses he kept speaking. "I'm just going to tell you straight. Someone bombed the Council headquarters last night. They were convening a full meeting and they're all dead."

Neal stared at him blankly for a moment before dropping one of the shots back in one go. As soon as it was back on the table Moz refilled it.

Moz held his aloft. "The king is dead." Neal finished the age old quote.

"Long live the king." Both of them downed them simultaneously

"Caffrey, Haversham. What the hell is happening?" Peter had that strident tone about him, Neal noticed absently but it was Moz that answered.

"Neal's father is dead."

"Father?" Peter was surprised. According to the file - one he had read front to back many times over - Neal's father had died when he was 17. But now it seemed like that wasn't the case.

"Quinten Joseph Travers. My father."

"But your father has been dead since you were 17." Please be right, please be right. Peter thought desperately. Neal only smirked.

"No, my mom's husband died when I was 17, but he wasn't the man who spawned me. You shouldn't believe everything you read."

Peter grumbled." well usually peoples files tell the truth, should've know your's would be forged."

Neal held up his hands in defence. "Not my decision, this is a crime I didn't even 'allegedly' do. I didn't even find out till I was 15."

"Speaking of that." Mozzie broke in. "You need to be in California by Tuesday; Rupert Giles is calling a meeting of anyone left."

Peter's "are you forgetting he can't go beyond two miles!" collided with Neal's own "I'm not having anything to do with those bastards!"

"Rupert is coming through La Guardia tomorrow, he'll either take you with him, and you know the reach the council has that he can, or he'll take your vote here. What do you prefer?" Moz asked the question but he already knew the answer. Neal liked his leash, and he had no love for his father's occupation, even if the result was a complete unravelling of his life for the pleasure of the White Collar Unit.


	2. Car Conversations

And that was the last that Peter heard about it for the day.

After Haversham left Neal buttoned up, even the usual threat of jail just had Neal hmming and focusing on his paperwork. But he wasn't focused Peter could tell. His mind was all over the place and not even in its 'I'm planning something' pre-occupation mode (which Peter had learned to read to save his sanity) but this was truly distracted. Finally after three hours of watching Neal get more and more tense he called it quits.

"Caffrey, if you can't concentrate on those files I'm taking you home."

Neal's head tilted up and he looked at Peter. Peter was struck by the look in Neal's eyes, another sign that Neal was distracted; he was barely hiding his emotions. Usually Neal kept up a very careful shield of casual interest and charisma. It was what kept him in control of most of the interactions that he was in. But the shield had dropped and peter could plainly see the emotions swirling behind his expressive eyes.

"Definitely taking you home." peter affirmed.

"What, no I'm fine peter, really!" Neal tried to say but peter wasn't having a bar of it. He grabbed Neal's hat off the desk and held it up in front of him.

"No you're not. I can tell. I didn't spend three years of my life not to know when you're off your game. Come on, I'm taking you back to June's."

Neal sighed but lifted his jacket off the back of the chair. Taking the hat out of peters hands he placed it on his head. No fancy hat tricks, another sign of his distraction Peter thought. When Neal had all his things together Peter shuffled him out the door, a hand at his back to keep him moving. The pair got all the way to the car before either spoke.

'Before we go to June's could we stop somewhere?" Neal asked.

Peter looked over at him.

"depends, am I going to get a straight answer out of you today?"

"Awh Peter, don't you know answers are just the systems way of tying you up?" Neal tried to deflect, but he wasn't up to his usual standard. The look on Peter's face made sure he didn't try again. "As much as I trust Moz, it's like the scouts say: always be prepared."

"You were never a scout Caffrey."

"I need to pick up something out of a security box; it was something that my father gave me. One of the few things." Neal grimaced. "He never did much approve of my career choice."

"Neither do I, hence the chasing after you for three years."

"Yes, but you chased after me because I was breaking the law. He didn't approve of it because I was doing it for the thrill of it and not for the money. Or for him. Make a left here."

Peter turned the car without thinking, and then internally shrugged. Neal had been close to his usual self since getting in the car, might as well see what it where it was that he wanted to go."

The car fell into silence for a time as peter drove through the city streets save for Neal's directions.

"So why didn't you know he was your father? This Travers guy?"

"He's British, or I should say was British. He met my mom on a trip to New York and got her pregnant. Turns out he was married and didn't want anything to do with my mom. But later on when his wife couldn't have any kids he turned up on our front steps demanding that I 'join the family business'." Neal's hand made the quotation marks in the air." So that why he's not on my birth certificate. Or in my life. I met him a few more times after that but he was an asshole each time."

Neal pursed his lips. "He turned up at my dad's funeral and demanded that I come with him."

Peter frown, he couldn't imagine having family that he didn't care for. "What about this Rupert? Should I be preparing the cuffs and Miranda Rights when he comes?"

"No, I hear he's an alright guy, a bit stuffy like most Brit's. He worked for Travers."

"Doing what?"

"The council works in antique acquisitions, historical documents and such. They also do translations and appraisals for commissions and other organisations."

"Right in your area of expertise" peter said.

"Hmm."

Neal didn't mention that Giles' part in the council was looking after a certain artefact called the Slayer. Considering how he took it when his father told him just what was expected of him, he didn't think Peter was ready for the big reveal.

"Pull up here." Neal gestured to the kerb on Peter's side of the car. Hopping out he leaned against the door. "I'll just be a minute."

Peter shook his head. "Nope, I'm keeping my eye on you, we're so far outside of your usual radius, and coupled what ever the hell the deal is with your visitors tomorrow I'm not letting you out of my sight.


	3. Rumour Has It

Stepping into the store was like travelling to another planet. From the strange objects lining the walls to the crazy looking shopkeeper who was hovering behind the counter at the back of the store, Peter was sure he'd slipped sideways into the Twilight Zone. The room was filled with things Peter would place in the category of midnight horror movies.

The walls were dark, making the shop seem smaller then it truly was - in the way an optical illusion - and there was a heavy smell of incense in the air that made it hard to for him to breathe.

Neal however, like everywhere he went, seemed to fit effortlessly into the room. He browsed around the shelves picking up what seemed to be random objects and putting them back. Peter trailed along behind him wondering what exactly they were there for.

Neal had just picked up what had to be the ugliest statue of a, well, of something that Peter had ever seen when the shopkeeper spoke up.

"Are you just browsing or are you truly interested in a Totem of The Lady of Gotempti'ol?"

Neal turned to look at her, "only if it would be any use." He hefted it in his palm. "Given that she is meant to be the Lady without a face I fail to see how this is meant to be her. Also, it's made of wood rather then any kind of conductive metal."

The shopkeeper gave him an appraising look over thick rimmed glasses. "Someone who knows what they're talking about. I ask again, are you looking for something specific?"

"I'd like to know that myself." Peter murmured under his breath.

"I'm looking for information, and I was told by some people that you would be someone who would be able to give it to me. About what happened yesterday?"

The woman scoffed. "Where? Lots of things happened yesterday?" She walked back behind the counter and started moving papers around, ignoring the pair of them.

Neal leaned closer, into her personal space. "Ok then, what happened to the Watcher's Council?"

Neal didn't often do menacing; it wasn't something he felt was his best ability, but he needed the information so he'd use any card in his deck. He was missing something from what Moz had told him, something important that he needed to know before Giles arrived tomorrow. So he leaned and used his body language to get the woman to respond.

"Well, now that's a lot more precise. Word on the street is that the Council were packing up shop and sending anyone available to Sunnydale, for the obvious reasons. Someone." She gave him the look to infer he should already know who. "Got upset at their interference and decided to remove them from the equation."

Peter finally joined the conversation. "Hold up! Are you saying that you know who was responsible for the bombing? Have you told the authorities?"

"The Watchers were the authorities in this case." Neal said. He got another look from the shopkeeper as if to say 'who is this guy?'

"How can a historical society be the authorities, I'll get Jones down here, he can take your statement." He went to pull his phone out of his pocket when Neal pulled it out of his own. Peter looked at him. "Why do you keep doing that?"

"Don't bother calling Jones, a lot is happening that isn't what it appears. The people who know what to do are already doing it." He waved at the woman. "Go on?"

"They're scattered, rumour has it that the Active got out and is on his way." Neal nodded, that meant that it was Giles coming, not that he'd been worried. She finished. "That's all I know. Joshua, the bartender down at Mickey's on Main St may know more. You know how it is."

She went to walk away but Neal grabbed her arm. "If anyone asks, you tell them Neal Caffrey is looking for information." He pulled a card out of thin air. "Give them this to contact me." He pressed it into her hand. "Ok Peter, now to June's."

"I'm missing something aren't I?" Peter asked.

Neal shot him a megawatt grin. "Isn't that half the fun?"

Peter huffed. "No."

"Well it'll all become clear soon."


	4. Plans and Proceedures

Neal assessed the papers spread across his table. After Peter had dropped him off (still pestering him about what was happening) he'd gone back out again, this time alone because it was inside his radius. His destination had been two different places. One was a security box at a HSBC branch he'd used as a safe place a long time ago. The second was to a certain tree in the middle of the park that he hadn't been to since he was a kid. From the tree he took something he'd hidden.

The object he'd pulled from the tree stump sat on the middle of the table, having had 12 years of dirt washed off of in his sink. He'd been surprised that it had still been there; that no kids had taken it for the bauble that it looked like.

He knew what Giles was going to ask of him and it wasn't what Mozzie thought. He'd never been trained and with all the rumours he'd started to here swirling around it seemed that they wouldn't need an 'alleged' conman cluttering up their space. No, what Giles wanted was something that he'd taken from the bastard of a man who had called himself his father. Like everyone else in his life it appeared he mused. First Kate and The Man with the Ring wanted what ever it was, Peter wanted his skills as an art thief (not that he really minded that) and now Rupert Giles wanted part of his past that he'd buried since he'd last seen the old man.

He'd been sitting in the same place at the table staring at the papers for about two hours when a knock at the door roused his attention. He grabbed the trinket and hid it behind a book on the shelf. Crossing to the door he opened it and found Moz standing in the doorway. Moz poked his head through the door and looked around.

"No Suit? I thought he'd keep an eye on you all day considering how you were this morning."

Neal waved him in. "Yeah well, he kicked me out of the office a few hours ago, said I was 'too distracted'. Neal even made the air quotation marks.

Moz went through Neal's kitchen and then settled himself at the table. Pulling various pieces of paper over to him he scanned them quickly.

"So what's the full story Moz, Giles coming to New York can't be everything, I've never met the man and you know I'd happily ignore Travers' dieing. There's something else going on, another angle that's happening."

"You're right, there's no way I'd say everything in a building full of Suits. Even if your Suit is a nice guy there's still the Suit that has Kate, and do you really want him catching wind of exactly who you are?"

"Peter's not my Suit." Neal corrected. "And don't try to distract me with thoughts of Kate right now, I have to believe she's ok for now or I'll snap. What's the deal with the council Moz?"

"You're right, there was a lot about the situation that I couldn't say at the Suit's office, not that The Man doesn't know about demons but its a case of the left hand not knowing what the right is doing and you know that the FBI record everything which would get back to the wrong people and we'd all disappear into the ether or into hidden bunkers underneath Cheyenne Mountain." He shook himself off the tangent. "What do you know about what's happening over in Sunnydale at the moment?"

"Not much." Neal conceded, "only that something is going down."

"They bit off more then they can chew, and woke up one of the major players for the other team. Have you ever heard of the First Evil?"

Neal shook his head. "No, but I suppose it's what the name implies?"

"Exactly what it implies. The Council knew about what was happening and started going to ground but apparently not fast enough. Whoever is helping The First has been going after the Potentials as well."

Neal stared off, gathering together the pieces in his head. "And Giles?"

"He contacted me last night and I got him passage over here. He managed to find a few of the girls after the explosion and is bringing them with him. He'd trying to get everyone to Sunnydale."

"But Moz, I'll be no use in Sunnydale, I'm a thief and a forger, and I don't think that's what Giles needs if they're going to be having some big battle."

"So why do you think he's coming? I mean, he specifically asked if I was still in contact with you, and he did sound relieved when I said yes on the phone."

Moz was puzzled. He thought it had been a long shot but it was the only thing that had made sense, unless... He groaned. "You took something didn't you? As I've said before, you're like a small child!"

"I was a small child!" Neal tried to defend himself.

"No." Moz corrected, "You were 21, and it was how we met remember?" Moz sighed. "So what was it?"

Neal walked over to the book shelf again and pulled it out. Moz took one look at it and banged his heal on the table.

"Why?" He wailed.

Neal shrugged. "I don't know. It was there, he was being difficult and it was a way to upset him. It's not like I knew what the heck it was then."

"Along with everything else that you did," Moz said knowingly. "Didn't you also drain one of the secondary accounts?"

"Well, a few of them."

Moz looked at him questioningly. "And you haven't used any of it to look for Kate? Why?"

"They have strings attached and I didn't want to have any reason for him to try and get in touch with me." His face turned thoughtful. "Or at least they did. Now that Travers is dead I suppose the flags on the files will have been wiped, or at least they've stopped being monitored."

"That could be another reason why Giles is coming to you. Everyone heard the story of your last meeting with Travers."

Neal grinned. "I like to leave a mark."

Moz nodded. "That you do my friend. That you do."  
"OK Moz, I need a plan. And maybe a few back up ones."

His shorter friend brightened. "I have the perfect idea..."

Neal looked at him across the table. "Moz, bad things usually follow when you say those words."

"Trust me Neal, this one is brilliant."

"Those words usually mean danger as well."

* * *

"Honey? You're home early."

Elizabeth was relaxing on the couch when Peter got home. he had driven back to the office and tried to find out more about the explosion but kept hitting brick walls at every turn. He'd called it quits at about four in the afternoon and gone home.

"Yeah, it's been an odd day."

"Oh?" She replied. Peter grabbed a beer and relaxed next to her. She put her arm around him and pulled him close. "Anything I can help with?"

"Neal's father died yesterday. He was in that explosion that was on the news this morning."

"Oh no." El said softly. "How's he holding up?"

Peter shook his head. "That's not the problem. Caffrey and his father didn't get along so well it seemed. The problem is that one of his co-workers is coming to see Neal. And I think there's something he's hiding from me about this. Again."

El gave him a look. "He's allowed to have some secrets Peter, not every part of him belongs to you."

"But his secrets usually get him hurt. Or in trouble. Or me in trouble. I'm just looking out for him."

"So keep him occupied. Distract him somehow so he doesn't get into any more. Hughes could find you an interesting case that could keep him... preoccupied while these people are here."

Peter kissed her gently. "This is why I love you, you always come up with the bright ideas."

"So it wasn't because I was the only woman who could stand your cheesy jokes," she teased.

**Author's Note:**

> Have been watching too many episodes of White Collar and thinking up different ways of Neal slipping his leash without running illegally... And this plot bunny was born.  
> I also wrote this before any of Neal's back story was firmly established, so in this Peter knows a little more the he's meant to. I may squeeze in some of the new backstory, but only if it fits


End file.
